


Vulnerable

by fre



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackmail, Gen, Human Experimentation, Suicidal Intent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-04 20:59:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15849264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fre/pseuds/fre
Summary: there are many things genji wishes to escape from





	Vulnerable

**Author's Note:**

> The night that you caught me  
> My coffin did walk  
> I fell at your mercy  
> I fell in your grave  
> \- The Mars Volta, El Ciervo Vulnerado

Familiar voices crept through the metal plating of the ventilation shaft, his ear pressed close to the cold metal. So late in the evening was an odd time to host meetings, especially in such a secluded corner of Blackwatch base, where few passageways connected. It took only one sharp sound to alert his attention.  
  
“I may have been granted several clearances, but my research has already come to a halt. Morrison wants to keep all his projects under the table. Dr. Zeigler's work is almost entirely redacted in the files he gave to me,” Moira said. “I'm not surprised he's withholding information.”  
  
“It should just be a quick extraction, as long as I know what I'm looking for,” this second voice added.  
  
Moira hissed, shushing her accomplice. “I just need methods and materials. Any data stored on Overwatch hard drives concerning Zeigler's work will do.”  
  
The other voice moved further into the room, muted by the distance and Genji inched forward. It was a crowded space with only a slotted window to look down into, viewing only an empty corner. The back of her copper hair flashed for a second as she moved closer to the door.  
  
“Once you have extracted the data, it is imperative that you wipe the drive. I can't risk any evidence of this collusion,” Moira said. “I'm the first one they'll suspect if there's even a hint of tampering with bio-tech information.”  
  
“A little sabotage, eh? I like the way you think, O'Deorain. I also work from the inside out. A little virus can burn through any firewall if you just plant it in the right place,” this conspirator giggled.  
  
Genji wriggled out of the small divot and his knees seizing for a moment, stubbornly locked in the tight crouch position.  
  
“What the-” Moira blinked, rising up to scan from the door lock to the panels along the ceiling. For only a second their eyes met and Genji's jaw tightened. “You're certain no one has followed you?”  
  
“Completely. Your loud mouth must have attracted some wandering ears,” this stranger said. “I'll be back when you have a better plan. Until then, _adios_ , O'Deorain.”

 

With only a minute to spare before their meeting, Reyes entered the office finding Moira and Jack mid conversation. Moira dropped the tone of her voice, as though suddenly less committed to her own persuasions. She recognized the irritation in his eyes like two flared reticles.  
  
“I was not informed that you would be releasing agent Shimada from quarantine,” Reyes said. “The lower sector of Blackwatch is under lock down as we still haven't been able to locate him yet.”  
  
“You've got your facts all wrong, Reyes. I gave no orders to have him released," Jack said.  
  
“Then someone has breached our security by direct means. I need you run complete lock down of the Overwatch complex. The infiltration needs to be snuffed at the source,” Reyes demanded, “and retrieve agent Shimada.”  
  
“Alright, just sit down. He couldn't have gone far in less than ten hours. You forget he relies on Overwatch."  
  
Much like any of us, Gabe thought, but what's keeping you from leaving? “It's not how far he can get,” he reminded him, “it's what he might do that concerns me.”  
  
Moira distracted herself, though nothing intrigued her more than this argument. Her research staff only quarreled behind each other's backs about petty concerns. Watching top Overwatch commanders bicker was becoming a weekly treat. To think these two had once been friends, she pondered, pretending to flip through her own notes.  
  
Reyes was losing his patience. “I don't have time for your meetings. Just search through security cams and run the lock down. I can't deal with you otherwise right now.”  
  
“You think you'll walk off that easily, Gabe?” Captain Amari said, taking a seat. “No reason to call for any security footage.”  
  
Genji appeared in tow, impassive to the reactions before him. He kept a distance, preferring to keep the exit close. Reyes' shoulders dropped, though he was still compelled to storm out of Jack's meeting- wishful thinking, perhaps. In the very least, half of his concerns were extinguished.  
  
“I found him locked outside of the main quarter. A little confused and maybe tired, but that's all,” Ana said.  
  
“You can save it for another day, Reyes.”  
  
But Gabe wasn't listening. “Had me worried there, Shimada. Not your fault. How many other agents have you given clearance to Blackwatch containment facilities? We agreed 'classified' was just the word for these projects.”  
  
“We can change security measures. In the mean time, only Blackwatch official codes can access the entrance and exit in experimental facilities,” Morrison said.  
  
Begrudgingly, Reyes took a seat, though not without insisting the matter would not be ignored. Though he hated Jack's patronizing leadership, he despised his colleagues obedience. They agreed when the Commander insisted they talk in private and he sent Genji away.  
  
As he turned to leave, Moira glanced at him, a slight smile upon her face, more conceding than treacherous.

“Don't look too happy now,” Jesse mocked playfully, before offering him the only chair in the waiting area. “Reyes just about popped a hole through the ceiling when he saw you were gone.” He smiled with the memory.  
  
Genji only looked away, his eyes vacantly watching ants scurry along the creases in the tiles.  
  
“Hell, I was worried, too. Thought you might've gotten lost.”  
  
He remained silent. Jesse scoured his masked face, unsure of what he might find. “Not lost. Just trapped,” he said flatly.  
  
“I hear ya,” Jesse nodded. “So how'd you make your jailbreak?”  
  
It didn't seem right talking openly about his transgressions. Surely lying would not change Jesse's concern. “Dr. Zeigler's pin. It's the fastest way to override quarantine security.”  
  
He paused, seeming less sympathetic. “If you're that desperate to get out, you ought to tell Reyes. Fresh air and sleep- that's all you need.”  
  
Genji raked his fingers through his hair, tugging briefly at the cables. Still, he could not turn to face him. “All of Overwatch is a trap. No amount of pity that can change that.”  
  
A frown snagged Jesse's face and the words from his mouth. It was hard to guess when Genji's bad mood could be placated. “A'right. Well, they can't keep you contained forever. It'll stop feeling like prison once you warm up to it.”  
  
Genji did not respond and for a while they remained silent. This was always the sort of mood he was in- detached and aggressively unhappy. There was something else here, though, something teetering on the edge of his words. If he didn't want to speak he certainly wouldn't, and he would certainly not have revealed anything so personal.  
  
“If you ever need anything-” Jesse started, until Reyes entered the hall, visibly displeased.  
  
“Alright McCree, you're dismissed. _You_ owe me an account of everything that happened last night.”  
  
“Go easy, Commander, he's not-”  
  
Reyes stopped him short, “You've already been dismissed. I don't have time for this anymore. I just need you to cooperate, Shimada, for once in your life.”  
  
Commander Reyes escorted him back to the quarantine sector, delivering some long speech about secret operations and trust among associates. Genji nodded vacantly, thinking only of the great irony this entertained.  
  
_This would be a more interesting conversation_ , he considered, _if I told him who it was that harbored mistrust in Blackwatch._  
  
She was already waiting for them in the lab.  
  
Cycling generators kicked in, pulsing the cables threading along his spine. There would have to be repairs for several mechanisms in his legs as well as the hydraulics cushioning his spinal cord- original implants that Dr. Ziegler had designed, only to be grafted by Blackwatch engineers.  
  
The iv was attached to the port but nothing was dripping down. Systems were properly recalibrating, the pressure releasing in his core. He wanted to lean down and relieve the force exerting on his shoulder muscles, but the cables forced him upright.  
  
O'Deorain drew his blood as though nothing had changed, as though the meeting earlier had meant nothing. On the field she paid almost no attention to him, especially when his reckless abandon or violent outbursts got the best of him. She couldn't care less to be a medic, her duties fell in the laboratory. But here, under her own supervision, Moira was comfortable, as though it made no difference.  
  
“They'll never supply me with sedatives, Genji, so you might as well get used to it,” she said the first day she was given access to the sector. The statement remained true. With time these procedures became less painful, inflicting a dull soreness deep beneath the muscle.  
  
After the situation at the meeting, Moira was colder, more blunt in her mannerisms. She spoke entirely to the technicians who, in turn, only spoke to him as he slumped, dozing off.  
  
“What's it take to get you to quit that nonsense?” Moira demanded. “Are you regretting a certain choice you made?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“It's been more than a year. Perhaps two?” she grinned, coy and cruel. “So it has. _That's_ the very same look on your face.”  
  
He didn't flinch.  
  
“Alright. Well, you're no stranger to a little blackmail. Give me what I want and I won't tell Jack you know Dr. Zeigler's passcodes.”  
  
“Never.”  
  
“I'll be more specific,” she added, refusing to back down. “You simply donate neural and synthetic samples to my lab for legacy experimentation and, in turn, I will admit to releasing you from containment.”  
  
“They will not believe you.”  
  
“Are you saying I am not a good liar?” she remarked. “No matter. Who else are they to believe? Even if you confess to the act, my colleagues will all change codes. You'll be trapped forever and with all the consequences that come with treason. Of course, I'd mention the bit where you spied on me as well. Poor little ninja. Not fast enough to escape the consequences of your choices.”  
  
There was a distinct stinging sensation pushed at the base of his scull, heavy enough to sense it pressing tears to his eyes. That mocking tone in her voice and the bitter truth that it sprouted from was hard to bare. “That's all you want from me- just parts. You could pick them off my corpse but Overwatch would never let you near it.”  
  
She only laughed. “You're almost right, agent Shimada. As long as Angela's still around, they'll have you back up and breathing before they ever consider anyone else. She can bring you back from death once and if they pay her enough she'll do it again.” Moira shut off the lights behind her, the second set of vault doors unhinging. “That's a rough coin toss.”

 

Even as Genji lay there, perfectly quiet, perfectly dark, he could feel the air stinging the night, bursting like nails in a coffin. He could not hold himself still long enough to sleep.  
  
All of Overwatch was a terrible mess, no wonder only someone like her could survive in it. He had liked it better when his only company was Jesse and Angela, or on occasions when Fareeha stopped by. Though he spent those years in pain, there was at least some semblance of happiness, however clouded by confusion.  
  
Now all of that was in the past. All Genji knew now was forced solitude beyond the few assignments he might receive.  
  
Or any time Moira showed up to perform monthly calibration and simple maintenance. With Dr. Zeigler's work focused elsewhere in Overwatch, he was lucky to see her for proper diagnoses and so, Moira was to take her place. There were strict limitations for her operations due to contracts between Dr. Zeigler and Overwatch, agreements of silence concerning their methods and equipment and the materials that strung up the mechanism keeping him alive.  
  
She would only need small pieces. Carbon fibre sinew. Circuitry. The schematics of his body would unravel before her like a carpet of components. With enough influence under the shelter of Blackwatch she could dismantle and remake him at her will.  
  
Genji could not ever recall disconnecting from the monitors, not even the low wail of caution as systems failed. Distantly, Genji heard them, pressing his fingers to his temples brought him closer back to the chamber.  
  
Flood lights in the hallway flashed on, illuminating a small window at eye level. Glancing up he had not noticed the room go dark, the low power error signal beaming off several monitors. The sirens dissipated.  
  
Something had corrupted the security systems, cutting power to the key pad inside his room. From the moment he unhooked himself, Genji had triggered her trap. This was no ordinary meltdown, just convenient enough to prove his guilt.  
  
There was not much time to waste. He climbed up the medical equipment, grappling wires to propel himself forward. The ceiling was a low dome, its base comprised of wide ring of breaker boxes. On one side was a small ventilation duct- just big enough to squeeze through.  
  
He jammed his metal arm inside, using the grating to pop open filter case and then clawed his way inside. Cold rivets pressed his skin as he traveled deeper into duct, heading possibly toward the main utility room above. He followed the narrow passageway into maintenance tunnel, coming to the steep incline, adjacent to where the stairs might be.  
  
It was becoming quite a struggle to move at all, pressed up against cold boxes of wiring and breakers. So close to the metal, he could still hear the hollow wail of the siren. Light parceled out between every fourth panel on the floor above.  
  
Soon there was no room to step and he folded along the wall, stretching like a cat to slide forward into place before bending and reaching again. All this metal was cumbersome, scraping a trail through the machinery.  
  
Genji could see nothing now, unsure of the damage he was causing. He was fixated on the immense drop gathering before him, a tunnel spinning for miles above and below him. Perhaps it was the horror or fascination that had tricked him, if only momentarily, that the immense void was merely the elevator shaft.  
  
Nothing separated him from the the ledge, a fall roughly thirty feet down. At the end of the pulley mechanism was either the cold pit of quarantine or the roof panel of the elevator and he did not care to find which it might be. Worse even still, if the elevator sat between him and the second floor, being the closest possibility of escape.  
  
He gripped the rail and clambered up hastily. Speed and urgency clouded his focus, as the metal piston creaked with this new weight. Above him something heavy swayed. His blood cooled. It was too dark to see, and in a panic he jumped to the opposite ledge, unsure but desperate to find a more solid purchase.  
  
He tore through the plastic filaments of several wires before grasping a small ledge in the darkness. Inside was a small fan, the blades quietly fluttering to a complete halt. There was only a moment to breathe before the sirens amplified through the tunnel, deafeningly sharp, and smoke gathered.  
  
Above the elevator trembled and he considered retreating closer into the crevice. White light waved from above, flashing from the first floor entrance, not quite covered by the elevator car. Smoke was clouding through the filters, forcing him out. He crawled down coughing, blinded by suffocating darkness and overwhelming panic.  
  
His support failed, sending him crashing down below, delivered once more to the cold hands of quarantine. Genji felt for the door, finding the crease in the center and lodging his fingers to pry them apart. Heat and smoke swarmed him, losing clarity in the flashing light which turned to red mist around him.  
  
Nothing was changing. The door would not budge.  
  
Escape was impossible, he concluded. He was surrounded by pitfalls, the greatest and most obvious of which, was Overwatch.

Reyes burst through with a crowbar, funneling hot smoke into the hallway. Just a step away, Genji lay tightly coiled on the ground.  
  
Reviving him took only moment and a sharp jolt of electricity to restart the pulsing of his heart and when he was stable and responding Reyes sent the interns away. The rest was his own duty- shut down the quarantine sector and relocate this troublesome agent.  
  
“You've got a lot of nerve pulling a stunt like that, Shimada,” he scowled, dark bags beneath his eyes. “Here I thought we had an agreement.”  
  
Genji remained silent, averting his gaze.  
  
“Well it doesn't surprise me. But all this nonsense you're putting me through just isn't worth the time. I'm beginning to think you're more of a liability.”  
  
“Then be rid of me.”  
  
“That's what you want, I take it,” Reyes turned to face him but Genji would not deign to look him in the eyes. “Escape or die trying.”  
  
Again, he would not speak. In his thoughts the intent felt so muted but out loud it seethed with vitriol.  
  
“After everything we've done for you-”  
  
“Everything you've done to me, is more like it, Reyes. I have never held any agency in Overwatch,” Genji said. “Not even when they first revived me. That was my first mistake- forfeiting my life to Overwatch.”  
  
“I don't take any joy in what they did to you, Genji,” Reyes said. “ I thought things might be different once they signed you off for Blackwatch. You'd be less miserable, at least.”  
  
“Your judgment was wrong.”  
  
“It doesn't matter now,” Reyes stood, surveying the damage to the elevator shaft. “If you consider your agreement with Overwatch to be a mistake then it's just one you have to live with.”  
  
The statement sank through him, frigid needles piping the blood from his veins. It felt as though he occupied no body at all- only pieces covered by a thin blanket; a raw, empty heart.  
  
“What good was there in agreeing? Or in any choice I've made for you? What I am... whatever this is... as long as I am here, I am only a pawn of Overwatch. I could not defy you if I wanted.” He became silent for a moment, watching the last few sparks haloed in the flood lights. “You are right. It does not matter now. I could not die even if I wanted.”  
  
It was obvious that Reyes could not be persuaded, his face displaying only the impartial scorn of an unwanted disruption. He did not even react when Jesse arrived.  
  
“Even if you stop at nothing you will only suffer,” Reyes said before leaving. “You'll drive us all into debt at this rate.”

Jesse nearly tripped over the short ramp but he seemed more concerned with helping Genji to his feet. “Doesn't sound like you two had the friendliest of conversations.”  
  
“There's nothing I wish to talk about,” Genji said outright.  
  
“I understand. I think I heard enough,” he answered, draping the blanket over Genji's shoulders. “But I gotta escort you to the retention facility. Commander's orders.”  
  
Standing spun his head in all directions, but Genji followed, his will utterly defeated. Even if Jesse listened it made no difference. He knew the divisive nature of Overwatch and the unspoken intent that it shadowed, but he could not understand what it meant to inhabit a body engineered for those same purposes. Even he himself found it almost impossible to comprehend what had become of his own existence.  
  
“I won't lie to you, Genji, you've had me worried these last few days. I know it's hard to trust some of these military operative types, but I wish you would tell me what's wrong. You seem like you're always in pain.”  
  
Genji folded his arms, picking up the pace.  
  
“No need to rush now. Besides, I like spending time with you and, for what it's worth, I don't want to see you go.”  
  
“I'll come back.”  
  
“Sure. It's gonna be mighty lonesome until then.”  
  
With his back facing him, Jesse could not see the tears brimming along the edge of Genji's mask, nor the confusion in his eyes. His posture was hunched, his shoulders hugged close as though he was wounded.  
  
They did not speak in the elevator. Several floors passed and Jesse rested his hand on Genji's shoulder- a tender gesture. Genji pulled away.  
  
“I just want you to know that I care about you," he said, smiling. "I'm still going to worry about you."  
  
Genji's eyes, hollow and dark, only held for a moment, until the elevator halted, doors gliding apart. There was no more cruelty within him, his heart spent of all its rancor; there was only anguish in his silence.  
  
The retention compound was a narrow, utilitarian building with sparse rooms. An agent promised Dr. Zeigler would be returning within 48 hours and that he would be remaining under surveillance until then.  
  
The heavy shroud of isolation stifled the room, palpable in the darkness; a single red light blinked from the corner. As he curled up on the rigid cot, his gaze lay even with the Overwatch emblem printed along the frame. No different from quarantine at all.  
  
There was no escape.

 

In the dream, he had crossed the great breadth of the desert. Before him was a spire of ethereal white light ascending to heaven from the tallest dune.  
  
Under a sky matte with clouds he journeyed, no sun or moon or stars to guide him. White cooled beneath the clotting patterns of gray, mirrored pale in the sand. Closer he came and its radiance languished, the spire sinking to the horizon.  
  
Atop the dune, he surveyed the dark expanse before him, devoid of features or life. Rolling trenches of grain, untouched and unmoved save only from the small prints dotting a faded line. All else was smooth and uniform in its emptiness.  
  
He lifted the visor, squinting to see further when he stumbled, the foundation collapsing beneath him. Layers of sand eroded away, faster than he could catch himself, faster than reason would permit until the dune had almost cleared away.  
  
He was sucked into a glass tube, pressed to the very bottom under the weight of a landslide. Black stripes imprinted along the glass, perfectly numbered in even increments. There was a label adhered to the side as well, the print impossible to read from this side. He watched it quickly become carpeted with sand.  
  
Thousands of grains heaped over him in a torrent without end, until, at last, he could struggle no longer.


End file.
